Look So Easy
by Grimm Sister
Summary: They make it look so easy - to turn on everything you've ever believed, turn your back on everything you've ever known, turn away from everything you always assumed that you would be.  It wasn't.  Andromeda fic.
1. The Profound Difference Between 11and17

**The Profound Difference Between Eleven and Seventeen**

A pair of brooding brown eyes were fixated on the pair of children sitting close together on the steps outside an ancient castle. The pair of eyes did not turn aside for the hand that stroked her hair out of her face in an attempt to draw attention away. The pair of children did not glance toward the trees in which the young woman who owned the eyes stood, hidden from view, watching them.

The two children were unaware, intentionally unaware, of all the stares directed toward them. Although they revealed themselves every so often. The girl flipped her long red curls over her back and sent a general haughty look of nonchalance at the general population, to let those who stared know she did not care. Then she would again pretend that she did not see them. The greasy boy with beetle-black eyes that were just as shifty occasionally glanced at a certain group of his peers from time to time, then shifted inward, as if that would hide him or the emerald and silver scarf he wore.

The young woman watching them from the bushes did not avert her gaze, more stubborn than all the rest of the incredulous eyes that turned on the other pair, as her own emerald and silver scarf was tenderly unwound from her neck and thrown atop the scarlet and gold scarf that already rested at the young man's feet. While her attention was directed at the small couple who drew all eyes, he was fixated on tempting her away into the activities they usually engaged in when they were shielded from those piercing eyes.

As he began to kiss her neck, she spoke at last. "They make it look so easy," she murmured, unable to rip her eyes away from the first year Gryffindor and Slytherin laughing on the steps out in public. Even his clever lips could not force her to relinquish the sight that mocked her professed beliefs, her upbringing, her understanding of the world and Hogwarts…and her secret. Her secret most of all.

"Evans and Snape?" the boy asked, lifting his lips from her neck just long enough to speak before resuming his previous occupation.

"What other Gryffindor and Slytherin first years do you see sitting together?" she demanded. "What other Gryffindors and Slytherins do you see together?" She let him kiss her neck for a long time before she spoke again, but she did not look away from the two children on the stairs. "What right do they have to make it look so simple?" she demanded almost angrily.

The boy sighed and broke off, moving back and lifting his head so that he had to spit pieces of her hair out before speaking. "They're not dating," he offered.

"They're eleven," she shot back, tilting her head slightly as if she were about to turn to face him but not actually looking away from the pair of first years they were discussing. "If they hold hands once or twice or he carries her books to one of their classes then they're more of a couple than we are."

There was a pause before the young man spoke again, "Yes, I'd say they would be more of a couple that we are."

Even though she was the one who had so often insisted on the distinction, it still hurt to hear _him_ say it. The young woman looked away from the boy and girl at a distance and turned to the young man beside her. "I'm sorry, Ted," she whispered, slipping her arms around him and tucking her head against his neck. "I'm sorry."

"I know what it would mean for you, 'Meda," he told her a long moment later.

"Meda? Is that what you're calling me now?" she asked, flirtatiously for the first time during their stolen moment.

"You won't let me call you Andy," he replied, pulling her closer, sliding his hands lightly up and down her back tantalizingly. "And your full name is such a mouthful."

"I'll give you a mouthful," she replied, pulling back enough to kiss him.

After a moment, she broke away. "Do you ever wish we could sit on the steps in full view?" she asked.

"You know I do, 'Dromeda," he replied seriously, holding her gaze as if nervous it would flick again to the children sitting happily in full view and away from their shielded interlude. "But it's nice to know that you do as well." She smiled very slightly, more sadly than any of the emotions that traditionally inspire smiles. After a moment, the young man offered kindly, "He's not a pureblood."

"He's ambitious," the girl returned, stepping away from their embrace and going back to the small hole in the brambles and shrubbery that hid her and the young man from similar scrutiny. "Darkly ambitious. He has more to suffer from a Muggleborn girlfriend, in ways, than I do."

"Oh?" the young man said, moving to stand beside her again, looking at the sight of the redheaded girl laughing and putting her arm lightly on the sleeve of the boy's Slytherin robes.

"My position is established," the young woman replied clinically. "If Bellatrix weren't my older sister…with her little spies still here. How in the world do you think they met? How did they become friends?"

"Perhaps he saved her from certain death on the back of a rampaging Hippogriff?" the young man suggested with an impudent grin, sliding his arms around her from behind, squeezing her stomach through her robes gently.

"Certain death? I sincerely doubt Kettleburn would have permitted me actually to die," she replied, though she smiled widely and genuinely now, leaning back against the young man.

"That one-legged pirate wouldn't have been able to stop the damn thing in time to save you, even if he could subdue it," the young man laughed, freely and carelessly loudly.

"You shouldn't speak of him like that," the young woman admonished.

"What are you going to do? Stop meeting me in dark corners? You could have stopped a few months ago, perhaps, 'Meda, but you'd miss me too much now," he told her seriously. "You let me under your skin." As if to demonstrate, he ran his hand lightly up and down her arm, sending tingles through her whole body.

"You make yourself sound like a parasite," she told him, shaking her head.

She stopped, the smile slowly sliding off of her face. "What right do they have to make it look so easy?" she asked a moment later. She broke away and took a few angry steps, treading on the pair of scarves as she went. "What right do they have to make it look as if…as if it's all in my head. I hate what they've put in my head!"

"Evans and Snape?" the young man asked.

"My family!" the young woman snapped. "All of them! I can't even tell you what I'm really thinking because of them – because I'm afraid one day one of the thoughts they planted in me will jump out and frighten you away. And I – I don't want to lose you, Ted. But they'll take you away, one way or another."

The young man did the only sensible thing he could under the circumstances. He walked over to her and kissed the young woman soundly, folding her into his arms.

At length, when they broke off, the young man still stood holding her face with one hand. "I've always known who you are, Andromeda. Do you think I would have a secret affair with any other girl? Not just my feelings for you, but knowing so well what you need." He lowered his hand and found hers. "Anytime you want to make it look easy, like those two runts you admire so much, let me know. Until then, I have what Evans suffers daily in our common room to remind me what it would cost you. They are young enough to pretend they don't notice, that is all."

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it gently, then started to leave. As he was about to draw the bushes aside, the young woman stopped him, "They don't make it look easy in the sense that it's not trouble, Ted. They make it look worth it. They make it look like it's an easy choice."

"They're eleven," he told her without turning to look at her.


	2. The Profound Difference Between Draco Ma

**The Profound Difference Between Draco Malfoy and Cygnus Black**

Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy. Andromeda just hoped they hyphenated their names. Take _that_, Narcissa of the Pure Black Blood! Weasley-Malfoy. Or even Granger-Weasley-Malfoy. She was probably the only one who liked the sound of it.

Hermione was liable to snap in half in her efforts to simultaneous reverse completely understandable automatic prejudice and dislike while insisting that Ron do so and acting like it wasn't difficult. Ron would probably just break a few things then spend the rest of his life praying that they divorced. The Malfoys…well, that should be entertaining.

But it was harder than Andromeda liked to think, to watch Scorpius Malfoy stand up at a large joint family dinner, and tell his father that he could stuff it – disinherit him, never speak to him again, duel him to the death for all he cared – he would marry Rose anyway. Is that what she looked like to Narcissa and Bellatrix as they stood above the stairs on that cold landing? Was her back that straight when she looked her father in the eye? Was her face that red at the end of her spiel? Probably not, Scorpius like his father was extremely blonde and pale.

Was Scorpius afraid that his voice would tremble? That everyone could see how very easily he would back down from this? How desperately he hoped, knowing it was impossible, that his parents would give in? Did he also fear – fear how easily and joyously he would fall into their arms when it felt so glorious now to stand at last?

Perhaps, but he showed nothing. Had she? When Narcissa remembered that moment in later years, would she have recalled a flicker of doubt, of longing? Did Bella see a flash of weakness? Did she give any sign of how she herself was torn in half as she stood before her parents and tossed her sisters out the window without even addressing them?

Scorpius grabbed Rose's hand, apologized for letting the proposal cat out of the bag almost sheepishly, and put the Granger Family diamond on her finger. Strong, beautiful, not even glancing at his parents. And his lady giggled nervously and smiled and threw her arms around him. And nearly everyone at the table erupted into applause.

Teddy looked over at her, eyes searching, thinking he knew what she was thinking. But it was not pride in Scorpius, or even satisfaction that the Black bloodline was again to be "polluted," or even a simple painful reliving of her own choice. It was annoyance.

Because the comparison would inevitably be made, and it was not the same thing at all that Scorpius had just done. Because they would all think that they understood what she had done better now, and Andromeda did not want any of them to try to touch such a terrible and dangerous thing. Not on her behalf.

She had had no cheering section, no enclave to flee to the very second she had rejected her family. Could pale frail Draco stand with the fury and power of Cygnus Black as he advanced on his middle daughter with the cold rage she had never before seen in his eyes? And the pain that swam in Scorpius's father's eyes – did any of them think that that was _anything _compared to the cold disinterest he suddenly felt in the life and well being of a former beloved daughter?

Even if they were all tossed unceremoniously from Malfoy Manor – and with the reinforcements Scorpius had they might well overrun it instead – did any of them think that would make it easier to understand the shock and terror of having to flee from your life while fending off Unforgivables shot at you from every angle - directed from your parents' wands? And – Andromeda had never been entirely sure – but perhaps one from her elder sister watching from above?

While her mother flew at her, hissing _Imperio!_ and her father shrieked _Crucio!_, both determined to steal from her this rebellion, this defiance, this shame, to cow her back into the daughter they had wanted but found in none of their spawn, Andromeda had thought she saw a flash of green light behind her – and though she had looked into black eyes full of hatred, already shrouded with wild hair as her always so secretly fragile sister broke before her very eyes, Andromeda had never known for sure. Never known for sure if her sister had tried to put her out of her misery rather than let her fall into such shame.

And what would happen to Scorpius if his father did not cede? Did none of them think of that? Or did they imagine they knew that too?

For all the Unforgivables thrown about that night, it was Andromeda who had done the unpardonable. And the curse that she brought upon herself did more damage than any her family might have landed if they had not trained her so well – if she had not been so quick on her feet. If they hadn't known she had already passed her Apparition Test.

Andromeda Black left her family – broke it and tossed it aside. How could she ever hold her family together again? She abandoned Bella – left her to fall into madness without her sister to hold her steady, without anyone to protect whom she could also rely on, with her world shaken to its foundations. And darling Bella had tumbled into a madman, then run gleefully through all the world, trying to recreate the total destruction her sister had enacted on her life and the entire Black Family before she fled. She had left Narcissa – left her weak sister who loved only harmony and peace without any protector in a household suddenly wildly strict and controlling, left her to parents who molded and re-molded her until they nearly broke her identity entirely, then handed it like silly putty to a man who had no real use for it.

Of course Ted would be taken, as payment for that debt. Of course Dora would fall, victim to that curse. Dodging all those spells had its cost. They said a spell fired by a family upon its own would never stop. And all of them rained down upon Andromeda Tonks's line, until the end of time. That she knew, the moment they first told her Ted had died. She knew that Dora and others would follow.

The cost of surrendering your family was never being able to hold the pass again. Not against any storm. Like negotiating with terrorists. You couldn't go back – you couldn't undo it, reverse or ignore the curse you brought on your own head and those you loved more than your own.

Luckily for Scorpius, Draco stood and gave his guarded blessing. And Daphne immediately removed the Greengrass locket from her neck and placed it gently across Rose's. But Andromeda watched Scorpius until she could meet his eye, and she knew that he had no idea. Even if there were no Unforgivables flying through the air, it only meant the curse would be tamer. It had fallen all the same.

The comparison was, in that way only, appropriate.


End file.
